


Knight's Folly

by CassidyJane2447



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, lesbian ship, ship fic, wlw ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28044987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassidyJane2447/pseuds/CassidyJane2447
Summary: Takes place after chapter 11 and before chapter 12 of the novella Garen: First Shield. Inspired by how Cithria acted when she first saw Quinn in the Novella. This isn't my first written work, but it is my first work on the site so I'd love some constructive criticism!
Relationships: Quinn/Cithria (League of Legends)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Knight's Folly

Rays of light from the afternoon sun gleamed through clear windows onto white floors, lighting up one of the private rooms within an Illuminator healing house with natural light. Inside, Quinn laid unconscious on a medical bed, slightly propped up. Valor was asleep while perched nearby, favoring one leg while the other was still bound in bandages. Garen sat next to the bed, one arm in a sling as he quietly read a book. To his right, a small nightstand was crowded with a number of cards and a large gift basket that held a variety of confections inside.

As he was turning a page, Garen’s ears perked to the sound of a soft grumble, looking up to see Quinn beginning to stir. She was trying to push herself up with her left arm, only for a spike of pain from her chest to shoot her back onto the mattress.

“Quinn!” Garen exclaimed, his voice much more elated than his usual stern and stoic tone. The sudden calling of his partner’s name stirred Valor out of his slumber to see what the commotion was about, An excited kree when he saw Quinn’s eyes slowly flutter open.

Quinn looked around, slowly registering both Valor and Garen who were leaning in to inspect her. “Seeing you means one of two things:” her head turned to Garen as she spoke. “We all died and this is the afterlife, or Valor was able to get a message to Demacia and save us. Judging by the pain in my chest,” Quinn’s hand moved to feel the left side of her torso where, last she was awake, a crossbow bolt had found its mark. “I’m guessing it’s the latter.” The two soldiers laughed, Quinn restraining hers as best she could to stop the pain from being too overbearing.

“The Illuminators predicted you’d be out for another day or two, but I knew better than that.” Garen said, placing a bookmark in his book and closing it shut.

“What do those white robes know? They’re too caught up with their city medicines to know just how tough a country girl like me is.” Quinn boasted, prompting another laugh. As they did, Garen set his book down on what little space remained on the nightstand, Quinn’s eyes following. It was then she finally noticed the basket and letters, looking back to Garen with a raised eyebrow for the answer.

“The members of the Shields who survived and were conscious wrote their thanks to you and Valor in thank you letters.” Garen leaned over and picked up each of the three letters, handing them to Quinn. They were thick, decorated with golden ink along the edges styled in ribbons. Each one had a number on its face corresponding to the respective shield they belonged to.

“And the basket?” Quinn asked, opening the letter from Eighth Shield. “Thank You” was inscribed with the same golden ink from the face, then signed by each member of the unit with their own personalized thank yous next to their name.

“From House Buvelle. The moment Lady Lestara heard you were hurt, she sent out one of her retainers to arrange a gift basket for you.”

“Does it have any whiskey in it? That’d sure help with this pain in my side.” Quinn joked as she opened the letter from Fourth Shield. It was then she began to realize just how few signatures there were, which caused her heart to sink.

“No whiskey, but I think I see a bottle of red wine,” Garen reached over to pull the bottle out, turning its label to Quinn so she could see. “Though I doubt the Illuminators would want you drinking until you’ve fully recovered.”

“Fine, fine.” Quinn rolled her eyes, finally opening the letter from First Shield. Quinn got a humorous kick as she began to notice each of their signatures matched their personalities. Alys Morn’s was pertinent yet flowing. Kriel’s was bold and boisterous. Merrek’s lacked any special flair, yet still felt soothing. Eben Hess simply signed “Hess” and nothing more. Saskja Vos’ felt incomplete, and Quinn couldn’t tell why until she realized her twin’s signature, Rurik Vos, was nowhere to be seen, leaving her to assume the worst. It was then she also noticed Cithria of Cloudfield’s signature was missing. Her eyebrows furrowed and the corners of her lips turned down in a frown.

“The greenhorn didn’t make it, huh?” Quinn’s voice was quiet, broken at the thought.

“Cithria? No, she’s alive and well. She was actually the least injured out of all of us.” Garen explained, leaning back in his seat. “She has a good heart, wits of steel, and a fast sword arm. Has the makings to be a damn good soldier, if not one of the best.” He smiled proudly, thinking about just how well the young Vanguard squire fought that day. “The reason she didn’t sign the letter is because she said she wanted to give you her thanks in person, so expect her at some point after I leave.” Garen explained, leaning forward some in his seat. “And in case it wasn’t obvious, I’m also thankful for the two of you.” Garen looked to Quinn first, then to Valor. He didn’t forget the massive role he played in saving everyone who was trapped on that bridge.

“Don’t thank me. If it wasn’t for Valor, we’d all be dead.” Quinn sighed, looking through the letters and counting the signatures. “How many did we lose?”

“About half, with some more still out because of their injuries.” Garen responded, his own voice dropping.

“And the families?”

“Have already been informed and given their shields. It was the first thing I did when I was cleared to move.”

“Can you compile a list of the location and names of the families?”

“Of course, but can I ask why?”

“I want to give my own condolences.” Quinn collected the letters and forced herself up to place them properly on the nightstand, grunting all the way.

“Try not to move-”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Right…” They’ve had that exchange about a hundred times before, just in different ways. Garen knew she hated being given orders, even if they were to Quinn’s benefit. Quinn snapped her fingers at Valor with her arm stretched out, finally sitting upright. Valor fluttered the short distance he needed to land on her arm where he received a gentle brush of fingers through the contour feathers on his chest while she took close examination of his leg.

“Can you adjust my bed for me so it’s leaning up more?” Quinn looked to Garen, gesturing with her head.

“I can try, only have one arm for the time being.” Garen got out of his seat and behind the bed, carefully making the adjustment so it was closer to being upright, but still leaned plenty back for Quinn to relax in.

“... I’m sorry.” Quinn spoke, eyes staying on Valor as she gently pampered him.

“For what?”

“For failing. If I hadn’t been distracted, if I had just confirmed the kill, no one would have died on that bridge.”

“Quinn, none of us blame you. We’re all grateful for the help you gave.”

“But if I was just a little smarter, focused a little better, I could have saved everyone.” Tears began to pool in the corners of her eyes, but she was quick to steel herself, wiping away the tears before they had the chance to flow. Garen watched silently for a long moment before finally letting out a sigh, looking down.

“There’s this person I know. I don’t get to see them often, but when I do, it’s always a treat. They’re independent, smart, and tougher than any armor I’ve ever worn. They’re a great friend, especially to have in times like these. Whenever a member of the Vanguard was killed in the line of battle, they’d remind me again and again how it’s not my fault. There’s been more than a few times they’ve caught dead tired for one reason or another. Each time they have, they wouldn’t leave me alone until they knew for certain I was rested. They did all this because they knew how stressful this life is, and how trying to shoulder all that weight would only result in more failures. I think you’d like that friend, you could probably learn a lot from them.” Garen smiled confidently as he leaned back in his chair, looking to Quinn whose eyes were still on the card. After a pause, she spoke.

“They sound cute, are they single?” Quin asked, a cheeky grin on her face as she looked back to Garen, prompting a hearty laugh out of him.

“You should practice what you preach, Quinn.” Garen said, slowly standing up from his seat. “Unless you need anything, I think I’ll be leaving now.”

“I’ll be fine, but tell one of the Illuminators to bring me food, would you? I’m starving.”

****

Hours had passed now with the sun closer to falling below the ocean horizon to the west. The clear blue sky had become a mix of yellows, oranges, and purples, all bleeding into one another with only the occasional distant cloud to obscure the view.

Cithria was speed walking through the Illuminator’s medical house. The end of visiting hours were closing in, and she’d yet to see Quinn in order to properly thank her. Perhaps she could have waited until the next day, given she had leave of service until further notice because of the intensity of the battle, but she thought it wouldn’t feel as genuine if she didn’t do it the day that Quinn awoke. In her arms, Cithria carried a bouquet of wild roses, wrapped up in some spare cloth to hold so the thorns wouldn’t poke and prick her, as well as a letter that appeared less fancy on the outside than the others Quinn had received.

Rounding a corner, Cithria spotted the room that Quinn was supposedly staying in, the door wide open. Her heart beat against her chest before she finally cooled herself with some slow and low breaths, stepping inside. “Dame Quinn! It’s me, Ci-”

Quinn, currently topless save for bandaging around her chest, Valor, and a nurse who was currently changing the bandaging around her chest stared at Cithria as she walked into the room. Cithria froze in her tracks, face turning beet red as she realized what was happening and looked away, trying to cover her face.

“I-I’m sorry! I saw the door open so I assumed it was safe to enter! I didn’t realize you were being attended to!” Cithria exclaimed in a panic, trying to calm her now racing heart.

“It’s fine. I’m almost done with miss Quinn’s bandages. If you wouldn’t mind wai-”

“Come on in, all the private bits are covered, not like you’ll be seeing anything you shouldn’t.” Quinn beckoned with a cheeky grin, motioning for Cithria to come closer with one hand. The nurse took a deep breath in and closed her eyes. Clearly, Quinn had already been annoying her while doing all the bandaging. Without another word, she turned back to the bandaging, leaving Cithria to make the decision on what she’d do next.

Bouncing from one foot to the other, Cithria’s eyes quickly darted from Quinn to the nurse, then back to Quinn. With a hard swallow, she stepped forward, eventually standing next to Quinn’s medical bed while trying her best to stay out of the way of the nurse. “I wanted to say thank you for saving us in person! I was originally told you weren’t going to be awake until tomorrow or the day after, so when Garen told me today I was caught off guard! I’m sorry it’s getting late!”

“Yeah, Garen told me you were going to do that. As the hours passed, I was expecting you by tomorrow too, if I’m to be truthful.” Quinn smiled, noticing the flowers. Before she could ask, the nurse finished wrapping the bandages the last time around.

“You’re healing well, Dame Quinn. Before long you shouldn’t need the bandages. Though I still believe you should stay for about a month more before release.” The nurse recommended. Quinn rolled her eyes in response, to which the nurse grumbled and gently slapped where the wound was before turning on their way out. Quinn flinched and grimaced, staring after them until they were finally out of sight. After, Quinn laid back into her bed, the top half still in an upright position. Cithria stifled a giggle at the whole affair.

“So thanks, huh? If that’s the case, those flowers should be going to Valor there. He’s the real hero.” Quinn pointed with her thumb to Valor, who was staring Cithria down. When the young squire did meet his gaze, she felt a chill going down her spine. Perhaps he didn’t mean it, but he had this cold, predatory gaze that made Cithria feel like she was only moments away from having talons digging into her. Her gaze pulled away and landed on Quinn’s own instead, but that didn’t help much either. Her striking amber eyes felt like they also held a hunter’s gaze, but there was something different about it. Other than being human and not avian, of course. Her face flushed red, eyes pulled away once more as she traced Quinn’s body. 

Cithria never got a good look before, with Quinn being clothed and such, but now she was able to see the woman underneath it. She had an azurite blue tattoo on her left shoulder that looked like the Vanguard emblem but flipped horizontally so the end of the “feathers” were facing the right if you looked at it head on. What remarked Cithria more was how Quinn’s body was hardly touched with scars or blemishes. The bolt hole would likely make one, and there appeared to be some kind of mangled scar on the right side of Quinn’s chest, as well as the occasional but barely noticeable cut scar, but other than that, it appeared perfect. Eyes drifting down more to Quinn’s abdominals, she realized that not only was Quinn lean from the waist up, but she was very well toned. The muscles on her body, even while at rest, were very obvious. This was especially noticeable with Quinn’s abs, which she ogled for a moment.

“Uh… Cithria? My eyes are up here.” Quinn said with a smirk on her face and one eyebrow raised. It was then that Cithria caught herself and, once again, her face became flushed in a cherry red blushing mess.

“Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Cithria apologized, trying to hide her embarrassment behind the bouquet of roses. Quinn let out a healthy laugh, even through all the pain she was feeling.

“It’s fine! You’re fine. I was just messing with you.” Quinn reached out and grabbed Cithria’s hand to help calm her. It was then she really noticed all the bandages that were covering her hands and each finger. Quinn looked from the bandages to the roses and drew the realization that not only had Cithria picked these today, she picked them hastily. A floating feeling filled her heart as she looked up to Cithria’s face which was still red as can be. “The flowers are lovely, Cithria. Thank you.”

Cithria’s eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat after hearing just how soft Quinn’s usually gritty voice was saying her name. She could feel her heartbeat steadily in her chest as she slowly offered them to Quinn. “G-Garen told me you like the wilderness a lot, so I thought maybe I could find you something from there. That’s when I got the idea of flowers, but the only wild flowers that were pretty that I could find were these roses. I’m glad you like them!” She explained, taking a deep breath after saying everything in one go. This prompted another chuckle from Quinn as she accepted the bouquet.

“I love them.” Quinn said, giving the bouquet a big sniff before setting it down next to her. She looked up and caught Valor’s fierce eyes. She raised a brow at him and motioned with her head to the window. “Why don’t you go stretch your wings for a bit, give Cithria and I some privacy. Don’t worry I’ll be fine.” Quinn said. Valor looked at her, then at Cithria, then back at her. He was still for a long moment, then fluttered over to one of the windows where he opened it with his beak and talons before flying off over the city. With a smile, Quinn turned her attention back to Cithria. “Pull up a chair, you don’t have to stand the whole time.”

Cithria, still a little flustered, quickly nodded and moved the seat in the room closer to bed, sitting down with her back straight and hands in her lap, fiddling with the letter. “I also have this for you, Dame Quinn!” She exclaimed, holding it up.

“Don’t call me Dame, I’m just Quinn to you, okay? I’m a poor-born commoner, no need for the pleasantries.” Quinn corrected, holding her hand out to take the letter. Cithria handed it over, letting Quinn take a look over it.

“Okay, sorry!” Cithria apologized, still doing better at retaining a calm demeanor.

“No need to apologize after everything you say, too.” Quinn responded. She looked at Cithria from the corner of her eye and saw she was clearly about to apologize again but stopped herself. Then her eyes went back to the letter. Its face was plain, much unlike the letters from the Shields, that only had “To Ranger-Knight Quinn” on it in very good handwriting. Opening it up, Quinn began to read.

Dear Dame Quinn,

Thank you so much for your help with Nockmirch. I had heard of the rangers of Demacia before, but had never seen you one in action. The way you not only knew your surroundings in a foreign land, but could move out of sight before anyone could notice was incredible! And Valor! He’s such a magnificently beautiful and strong bird, and the way you work together is so inspiring! I’ve only seen things like that with certain members of the Vanguard! Without you, I’m not sure if any of us would have made it out. Once again, thank you. I owe you in a way I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to repay.

Get well soon,

Cithria of Cloudfield.

There was a small, cartoon-ish representation of Cithria giving a thumbs up in the corner with a bright, wide smile. The corner of Quinn’s lips turned upwards in a smile of her own, lingering on the letter for a moment more before finally closing it, setting it with the flowers. “Thank you, Cithria. Demacia is blessed to have someone as good of heart as you.” Quinn smiled, looking to the squire. She smiled back, a pink blush on her cheeks.

“That means a lot from you, Quinn!” She responded, her body slowly relaxing from its upright seated position in the chair.

“You’re welcome. So Garen tells me you have a fast sword arm?” Quinn said, relaxing back to her much more mellow relaxed self.

“Oh, I’m not sure if it’s really that fast. I’ve had some other people say so, but I’ve seen better! Like Lady Laurent in her duels!” Cithria exclaimed with a shrug.

“If it’s coming from Garen, then there’s some worth to it. You know, fast swordsmanship is a good qualifier for the rangers. Ever thought about switching duties? We could work on getting you an animal companion, maybe a fleetfeather eagle.” Quinn asked with a cheeky grin. Cithria’s eyes widened in surprise and her heart seemed to stop. She was speechless for a moment and, right when it seemed like she was about to accept purely from the pressure of the idea alone, Quinn started chuckling and shaking her head. “I’m kidding. I can tell just by looking at you, you’re more of a Vanguard girl at heart. Nothing wrong with that, the Vanguard’s good people. And you have the makings to be one of the best.” Quinn complemented with a wink. Another flush of red on her cheeks, Cithria tried not to let the kind words get to her too much, but it was hard when coming from a woman like Quinn.

“Th-thank you.” Cithria responded, looking off to the side. “... U-unless there’s anything else, I should probably be-”

“Do you drink?” Quinn interrupted, raising an eyebrow. Cithria blinked, looking back at her.

“Only at festivals and celebrations. Why?” Cithria asked. Quinn gestured with her head to the basket on the nightstand with the wine in it. Cithria looked back to Quinn, then the bottle as she picked it up.

“What’s the year on it?” Quinn asked, a slight tilt to her head.

“Twelve years ago.” Cithria confirmed, showing it to Quinn.

“Twelve years ago, huh? Lestara really is a symbolic woman.” Quinn laughed, leaning her head back to look at the ceiling. “About twelve years ago, I was taking my oaths as a ranger-knight. Sponsored by Lady Lestara of House Buvelle and directly appointed by the then newly appointed High Marshall, Tianna Crownguard.” Quinn chuckled, turning back to Cithria and gesturing for her to hand it over. “There should be a corkscrew in the basket.” Sure enough there was, and Cithria was able to find it easy enough. With some effort and a good bit of pain in her side, Quinn was able to uncork the bottle, being careful not to splash its contents everywhere. “Do you have any cheers?”

“Oh, uh…” Cithria was surprised at the offer, trying to match Quinn’s inquisitive gaze. “No, sorry, I wasn’t really prepared for one.

“That’s fine, I got one:” Quinn held up the bottle towards Cithria. “To the living, for they’re here to fight with us another day. And to the dead, who we shall meet once again in the Light.” Quinn getured the bottle’s head to Cithria. She didn’t have anything to properly cheers with, so she tapped the neck of it with her knuckle. With that, Quinn threw back a couple large gulps, wiping her lips as she passed it to Cithria. She blinked then stammered, clearly unsure. “I’m not going to make you if you don’t want to.” Quinn said, raising an eyebrow. Perhaps she wouldn’t make Cithria, but she was clearly goading her to. Taking one more moment to consider, Cithria grabbed the bottle and took a drink of her own, coughing as she did.

Hours past and the two shared what stories they had already while in the military, passing the bottle back and forth. Visiting hours had long since passed, but Quinn shooed away any doctor or nurse that came to vacate Cithria from the premises until they finally gave up. That night, Cithria slept cuddled up next to Quinn’s good side in her medical bed, snoring ever so softly in the ranger-knight’s ear. It was the best sleep the two have probably had since joining the military.

****

Much time had passed and Cithria’s wounds, both from the battle at Nockmirch and the little cuts and pricks on her hand, had since all but healed. The young squire was in the barrack’s training yard, currently practicing her swordsmanship alone with a training dummy. Since she was a member of First Shield until they found a replacement, she still had leave until all members were either healed or could temporarily be replaced. Perhaps she could have spent the time leisurely, but she figured she needed to be ready to prove herself at a moment’s notice.

That being said, she was slightly distracted. Her mind occasionally fluttered back to the night she spent with Quinn in the hospital bed. Though the most romantic thing they did was share a bed to sleep in while they were both somewhat inebriated, she wondered if it truly meant anything to Quinn, or herself for that matter. Was there something more to it, or were they just sharing each other’s joy of being alive?

As she thought this, Cithria heard a loud caw from above. Looking up, she saw the silhouette of a large eagle in the sky, and a letter drifting down towards her. She caught it just before it hit the floor, looking it over. It was sealed with a wax stamp that had the same exact symbol tattooed onto Quinn’s shoulder. Breaking the symbol, she opened it up to read.

Cithria,

I’m out of the medical ward, a lot sooner than the Illuminators probably want me. Not like they know my body as well as I do though. Still, I wanted to say thank you for visiting me. That evening was fun, it’s been too long since I had something like that. I’m not sure if you cared much for it, but the blush on your face certainly made it seem like you did. Then again, that could have just been from the alcohol. Either way, if you’re up for it, you should put your tracking skills to the test and try and find me out in the wilds. Before I find you, that is.

Yours,

Quinn.

In the corner was a cartoonish drawing of Quinn blowing a kiss, winking as she did. A faint red blush on her face, Cithria picked her head up and looked around. It was then she spotted Quinn on the far edge of the Vanguard’s training compound. The ranger-knight waved and winked before turning away, out of sight. Cithria chased after, but when she got to where Quinn once stood and looked around, the woman was nowhere to be seen.

She really had to ask her how she does that.


End file.
